


Just Kiss Me

by dcisamtyler



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Angst, Angst without plot, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Other, sad!Alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25176145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcisamtyler/pseuds/dcisamtyler
Summary: Inspired by the dialogue prompt: “Sorry, I’ve had a bit of a rough day. Can you just… kiss me?”
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Reader, Alec Hardy/Reader, Alec Hardy/You
Comments: 12
Kudos: 55





	Just Kiss Me

**Author's Note:**

> So this basically has no "real" plot. Just the Reader comforting Alec Hardy after a rough day. 
> 
> Can we please normalize men having emotions and crying, especially when they seem to have a tough exterior? Thanks.

You had been waiting all night, curled up in your tiny shorts and a tank top with a glass of wine and your fluffy dog at your feet in the living room. You could barely pay attention to the lame iTV drama on the screen in front of you, thinking about where your boyfriend Alec was this late at night.

While it was usual for him to stay at the station late, he would usually send a quick text to let you know, promising he’d be home before you went to sleep. If he could, he loved it when he could give you a quick call from his office. Despite waking up with you that morning, he’d tell you that he missed you and just wanted to hear your voice, while his partner DS Ellie Miller teased him from outside of his office door for being soft.

You glanced at your phone, wondering if he was staying at his own place that night and forgot to mention it. Maybe his daughter Daisy was in town. But that wasn’t usual for him. He never stayed at his own place – the little blue cottage by the water. He claimed it wasn’t home to him. But your place – yes, your place – despite all its mess and your dog’s fur all over the carpet, felt like home to him.

After all, it had you, along with a fridge stocked with cheap wine and fresh fruit he could feed you with like you were on vacation at a lavish Greek villa instead of a boring beach town in the south of England.

All you wanted to do was get away from that town together.

“We should go away, get away from here,” he suggested once, right before bed as you sat against the headboard. He was staring at you from behind his glasses, and you could see the tiny freckles that lined his nose. “I hate this town. The stupid cliffs, the water, the people…”

“I’m one of those people,” you quipped.

“Of course, which is why I’m taking you with me. You deserve better than this town.” He laughed and grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him, placing a kiss on your forehead.

But you never did leave. You stayed in Broadchurch – him working at the station, you running your little shop by the beach. You simply had to settle for having each other, seeking each other out for refuge.

Now, around 11 PM, when you could finally hear the key in your door turning, your heart jumped. All you wanted to do all day was pull Alec in by the tie, yank him down on the couch and kiss him senseless. Who needs a Greek villa when you had each other?

Your heartbeat picked up into a fast rhythm rather quickly as you heard the familiar sound of your boyfriend’s footsteps in the front hallway. It was only a matter of time until he would come into the living room with those brown eyes and that smile – oh, that smile. You heard the door shut, and him slipping out of his jacket, a knock as he flung it onto a chair. That was…odd. Usually, he would have said hello by now. But instead, he was padding around the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water.

And he still hadn’t said hello.

You could hear sniffing sounds coming from the kitchen as you turned off the TV. “Alec?”

No response. Usually, when he came to your place after work, he wouldn’t even bother taking the key out of the lock before he walked into the living room to give you a kiss hello. And then he’d jog back to yank it out of the door, only to quickly return and sit on the couch right next to you, thighs touching yours.

That was your routine. You’d be waiting, curled up in the living room with a glass of wine, waiting to relax with him after a long day of work. 

But today, something was different. He was rather quiet, even for him.

In fact, now that you were thinking about it, he hadn’t responded to your texts all day, despite the very sexy picture you sent him of you waiting for him in your finest lingerie. Normally, he would send at least a ‘xo,’ or one of the heart emojis Ellie showed him.

It was possible that he was busy that day. Life as a Detective Inspector wasn’t easy, especially not in Broadchurch. Not nowadays after the murder of a little boy named Danny Latimer. It seemed like that case was the domino that dropped the others. Crimes kept popping up now – the murder of a Broadchurch woman in the town over, a sexual assault at a party, a robbery of a business downtown...

You raised an eyebrow at the silence. This wasn’t like him at all. You waited for another second, and then placed your half-empty glass of wine on the coffee table, moving into the kitchen. “And to think I sent you pictures to get you exci—" you started to say as you rounded the corner. As soon as you walked into the kitchen, the words were cut off in your throat.

You swallowed hard as you saw Alec. He was standing there in his dress shirt and pants, leaning against your sink with his tie loose around his neck. You always loved it when he looked a bit disheveled, yet now something about it took your heart and twisted it in your chest. He didn’t even look up at you.

“Oh, Alec,” you breathed, immediately pulling him into your arms.

He gave a little whimper and melted into your touch, resting his chin on the top of your head. It took a second before you realized he had been crying, and you pulled away to look at him. His eyes were slightly red and swollen, and he gave a little shrug.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your texts,” he whispered. “You looked beautiful in them.”

You gave him a soft smile, though your chest hurt. It killed you to see him like this.

You jokingly called him “The Scottish Storm” with the way he tended to stomp into a room and immediately take command of it. This wasn’t even close to the usual Alec Hardy. The usual Alec Hardy pulled over on the side of the road to threaten boys who were troubling his daughter. The usual Alec Hardy had no problem ripping into a suspect in the interrogation room.

But this was a shell of the usual Alec Hardy.

You wiped a few tears off his face with your thumb, holding him steady with your hands on his chest. “Are you okay?” you asked.

“Sorry, I’ve had a bit of a rough day,” he mumbled, his eyes searching yours, his hand clutching onto your back. “Can you just… kiss me?”

You were happy to oblige. You moved your hand to his face, cradling it with one hand, and pressed your lips to his. It was slow, and careful – certainly not what you expected while you were waiting for him. He wasn’t as hesitant. He worked his lips against yours, desperate for comfort. You could feel him pressing his body against yours as he held onto you with all of his strength.

While Alec Hardy was a force of nature, he was only a man. 

He needed your help, and you were happy to give it to him, your lips soft and hungry against his.


End file.
